Vincent and Alacard rushed each other in their werewolf forms, meeting with clenched fists in the middle. Their feet tore into the ground, legs flexing as they pushed against each other. Tussling around, Alacard was able to knock Vincent down and pin him for three seconds. After letting up, Vincent hopped to his feet, ready and willing to go again. As they rushed each other again, Vincent was able to pin Alacard down, a relished smile on his face. He was getting better, becoming stronger, being able to see Alacard for his movements, sense him and see him for what he was.

  A weakling.

  Why would he think that, though? Just because he had bested him in this little game of pinning the werewolf did not mean Alacard was a weakling.

  What if they went blood for blood?

  Part of him wanted that, and he felt his animal urges push himself forward, to just make it happen, to swipe at Alacard and draw blood, unloading from there. Then they’d be able to see who was the best beast. He held back and let Alacard up, stepping away as he readied for another round, even though he wanted to exchange blows, scratches, bites, and see who could be the stronger werewolf, who would be victorious and stand over the other’s dead body.

  “Okay, boys,” Mr. B said, walking up to them with a raised hand for them to stop. “That’s enough for today.”

  Alacard turned on him, his eyes wild, saliva dripping from his clenched snout, and his body moving into action as he grabbed Mr. B behind the neck and threw him to the ground with a mighty movement.

  While Mr. B was stronger than both boys, he was no match in his human form, especially when caught off guard.

  Alacard looked like he wanted to destroy Mr. B, and so was his intent as he flexed his fingers, claws digging into Mr. B’s skin and drawing blood.

  Vincent moved into action, kicking Alacard off Mr. B. “What in the world are you doing, man?”

  Alacard whipped around, correcting himself and moving on all fours as he leaned forward with delicious intent. “You’re mine, chump.”

  His voice was lower, more animalistic, different. And he bounded toward Vincent with a predatory look as if he wanted to rip flesh from bone.

  Okay, Vincent thought, unable to contain or control his own nature as he leaned forward and pushed off the ground. Let’s see what you got, punk.

  And they met in the middle, both intent on the kill. Alacard swiped his claws forward, and Vincent was able to dodge and kick him backward. He landed and burst forward, meeting him in a flurry of strikes and scratches. Vincent did his best to dodge and block, realizing that Alacard was quite the adversary.

  Alacard’s eyes began to emit a sinister glow as his movements got quicker, his hits harder to dodge, and when one of them impacted, it had much more punch than Vincent expected, dazing him.

  Then in a quick movement, Alacard snapped an arm forward, snatching Vincent by the neck and lifting him as easily as lifting a book from a desk. He snarled and tilted his head, his bloodshot and crazy eyes peering at Vincent with relish.

  “Is that it?” he bellowed in a low and monstrous voice. “You’re nothing, chump. Nothing at all.” And he began to squeeze down on Vincent’s throat.

  Vincent tried to break free, but Alacard had already squeezed down, knocking him out, and Vincent’s legs and arms fell limp. Alacard laughed and tossed him to the side like brushing a branch out of his way.

  He leaned back and let out a long howl. “I love this feeling!”

  Even he noticed a change, something different, something amazing. But before he could do anything more, he his ears snapped up, his body twisting and tail flicking to the sound of footfalls, swift and hard. Mr. B came down on him with all power and rawness as he struck him several times, including his face, dazing him for a moment

  Mr. B then knocked him to the ground and pinned him, yelling into his ear. “Control your anger.”

  “Get off me,” Alacard snarled against the grass, Mr. B not letting up. “You can’t hold me back anymore, old man. Let me go.”

  Mr. B leaned into a thrashing and struggling Alacard that was no match for Mr. B’s strength. Even so, Mr. B had trouble holding the kid at bay, so he decided to throw a forceful elbow into Alacard’s face, knocking him out cold and transforming him back to his human form since he wasn’t listening to reason.

  After a moment, Mr. B let out a breath and eased up on Alacard, slowly rising and turning back to his human form.

  Mr. B moved to Vincent, checking that he was all right. Vincent had also transformed back, and Mr. B tapped his face lightly.

  Vincent came to, groggy and disoriented. “Uh, w-what happened?” Vincent turned around and lay on his back, blinking.

  “Alacard lost control to the Beast Mind and came close to going berserk. He was on the verge, so I had to knock him out. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Vincent groaned, even though he didn’t feel fine. His head throbbed and all the places he had been hit ached from the power of Alacard’s strikes. He even had a few scratch marks and bloodied wounds, which lucky for him, weren’t deep and had already stopped bleeding. He felt so weak, though, and surmised that while he had certain abilities and strength, the drain on his body was because he had pushed himself quite hard, so he just lay there for if he tried to get up right now, he’d probably pass out again.

  He was hungry, too, so hungry. He could devour twenty hamburgers without the buns.

  Mr. B let out a little chuckle, sitting back as he patted Vincent on the shoulder.

  “Everything’s fine now, son. If I hadn’t knocked him out, he could have overpowered me and lost control. If that had happened…”

  He paused, thinking on things, perhaps something he had seen or experienced himself.

  “He wouldn’t have been able to transform back until the Beast Mind was satiated or he was knocked out. And usually the former happens, and it’s always bad.”

  Alacard jerked awake, groaning and moving slowly from his little slumber. “What’s going on?”

  “Looks like he’s recovered,” Mr. B said, smiling.

  “Why’d you knock me out, old man. I had everything under control.”

  Mr. B heaved himself up and propped both boys against a tree.

  “Get me away from him,” Alacard said with a snarl. There was little life to his arms as he tried to lift them to no avail.

  “Yeah,” Vincent said, just as annoyed. “I don’t wanna be near him. He stinks.”

  “What’d you say?” Alacard said, getting a little bit more life back in his arms. “Say that again and see what happens?”

  They both moved like drunks woken from a long slumber, their arms and legs twitching slightly but not enough to move.

  Mr. B leaned back and laughed, wiping a hand against a sweaty forehead. “You boys truly are two of a kind.”

  “I ain’t nothing to this sorry chump,” Alacard said, using the tree as leverage to drag himself to wobbly legs.

  “Shut up, dude,” Vincent said, glaring at him with an intent to punch.

  “You two are just holding me back,” Alacard said, wavering on the spot but still pushing himself free of the tree as if to prove something, trying to stand tall but leaning forward as if he was an old man with back problems. He gritted his teeth, stepping once, almost falling, then twice, straightening his back as he began to regain his composure.

  He flexed his hands into fists and pushed out his chest, a sinister smile on his face. “The loser chump that doesn’t know nothing ‘bout this world and the pathetic teacher that’s trying to make up for his mistakes by living vicariously through his two werewolf students, not realizing that one of them is a complete loser, while the other one is destined for greatness.”

  “Now, now,” Mr. B said, sensing a growing animosity rise in Alacard, a warning in his tone. “Take it easy. I know you want to prove yourself but you need to rest, son.” He looked at him, his eyes intent, his body ready to move into action and transform.

  Alacard sneered. “You can’t tell me what to do, teach. You act like you know me, like you know us, but you don’t know crap. You may be able to control me now, to stop me, but just you wait. Wait and see.” It was almost like he was threatening Mr. B or claiming he would do damage as he gained strength. And he would as he felt like Mr. B was no better than his dad and uncle.

  “Okay, then,” Mr. B said as a slight breeze blew around them, and he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes to the ground, arms hung loosely as he slumped forward. “I guess I should just finish you off, right here and now, then.”

  He snapped his head up, his eyes holding a madness that Alacard had often shown. A deadly and dangerous look as they narrowed on Alacard with dark intent.

  He smiled a wicked smile. “I’ve taken it too easy on you. It’s time to stop playing around.”

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  He engaged his transformation, his furry form taking shape, rippling muscles and massive body and wicked eyes squinting forward at Alacard, hungry and intent as if he meant to do real harm.

  “Teacher?” Vincent said with a building worry. “What are you doing?”

  “Maybe Alacard’s right,” Mr B said. “Maybe we should just let loose, go wild and free and terrorize the neighborhood. Let’s let blood be our friend as we devour flesh and body.”

  “Hey,” Alacard said, stepping back with a bit of timidness as he looked scared for the first time. “I didn’t say that.”

  He looked reluctant. “Well, not exactly.” Then he met his teacher’s eyes. “What’s with you, teach?”

  “Nothing,” Mr. B said, flexing his hand into a fist and standing tall, a foreboding form looming over them, cold and emotionless eyes on Alacard. “I just think I’ve come to a realization thanks to Alacard. Forget waiting, I want to see what you’ve got. And if it ain’t nothing, then I guess this is your time of ending, son.”

  He stepped forward, his chest out, shoulders back, eyes ready for the attack. “And no one will miss you when you’re gone. They never do with a supernatural, cause we ain’t exactly human.”

  “W-what?” Alacard said, stepping back and shaking his head. “Stop joking around, teach.” He chuckled nervously and leaned back against the tree, arms searching for purchase as if that would help, his eyes darting from side to side as if pondering whether to run, stay, or maybe… attack?

  No way, he couldn’t be thinking of attacking, could he? Vincent thought.

  Then he felt it. A radiating energy emitting from Mr. B, a raw predatory look in his eyes, an intent to do harm.

  Alacard looked like a lost child wanting to find his mother, the color from his skin fading, frozen in fear as Mr. B stepped forward again, a low snarl coming from his snout.

  “Alacard, transform now –”

  But it was too late, as Mr. B snapped into action, dashing forward faster than either of them could react. He knocked Vincent to the side with such force that he went flying backward, sliding on his back against the grass. Mr. B pinned Alacard against the tree, his large hand clamping around his face and neck as Alacard’s muffled screams emitted and he kicked about, trying to break free, too scared and confused to transform or fight back, his eyes wide with surprise and fear.

  “That’s right, son,” Mr. B said with a dark relish in his voice as if he was enjoying himself. “It’s time to finish you off right here and now. I’ve taken it way too easy on you, and you’re just a liability waiting to happen. Time to say goodbye.”

  Vincent sat up, wincing from the push which felt more like a strike to his chest. His eyes went wide at the unfolding scene, and he jumped into action, leaping to his feet.

  “Mr. B, stop!”

  “This will only take a second, son,” Mr. B said, all caring from his voice gone. “I think giving into our Beast Mind and killing without remorse is nice. And it’s tough, so tough holding it at bay.”

  “But this,” he said, a little hiss in his voice as he smiled and squeezed down on a struggling Alacard that was pinned against the tree and couldn’t do anything to stop it. “This is wonderful, like you said. And it will all start with ending you, boy. Cause I’ve had enough of your crap.”

  An impending doom fell over Vincent as everything stopped for a moment, and he sensed that Mr. B was going to crush Alacard’s skull in his hands. An unbelievable urge to jump into action hit him, so he transformed without thinking about it, and dashed forward with all the might and fury he had.

  “Let him go!”

  Part of him hoped that his harsh and panicked tone would take Mr. B out of whatever state he was in, but there was another part of him that knew that Mr. B wasn’t messing around. So he moved on instinct and leapt into action.

  He burst from the spot, gliding over the ground. His plan was simple. Grab Mr. B’s wrist that was holding Alacard against the tree and dig his claws in to bring about a surprised reaction. Vincent would then apply pressure to Mr. B’s wrist, weakening his grip. Then he’d backhand his teacher in the face as hard as he could, with a solid and strong fist of pure werewolf power.

  He reached Mr. B, snatching his wrist up, digging sharp nails into fur and skin. It worked as Mr. B flinched and loosened his grip. Vincent then swiftly backhanded his teacher with all he had, letting out a mighty battle cry as he did. It impacted and crunched into the side of Mr. B’s face, knocking him backward with precise power. Mr. B dug his feet into the ground and glared at Vincent with vicious intent.

  He wiped a hand across where Vincent had hit him. His long tongue licking the side of his chops, his tail swishing about excitedly, his smile sinister, ears alert.

  Vincent stood his ground, his eyes watching Mr. B’s upper torso, not his eyes, legs, or arms, as he was taught. Vincent glanced at Alacard who was looking stupefied at this point. He yelled at him, making sure his voice startled him to action.

  “Hey, get your ass up and transform.”

  Vincent slid in front of Alacard, glancing back at him then at Mr. B, readying himself for battle.

  “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to go through me.”

  Mr. B simply nodded and narrowed his eyes, giving a low response.

  “Fine.”

  He burst forward, but Vincent, intent on protecting Alacard from harm, met him with full force knowing he would most likely get crushed. He focused on doing whatever he could to stop him. They met in the middle, and Mr. B’s strikes were faster and more powerful than anything Alacard could dish out. This was an adult, a well-trained supernatural being and full-grown werewolf, so he had to be careful.

  Mr. B threw a punch, and it impacted, hard, knocking Vincent backward, and he saw stars, shaking his head and feeling dizzy as the blotch that looked like a blur of a shadow moved on him. Mr. B struck again, knocking him to the ground in an easy and steady blow that was much too powerful for him to stop. Their teacher was so fast, and while Vincent thought he had a slim chance, he really had none as his teacher was able to move on him and strike at openings he didn’t even realize he had. He was on the ground, and Mr. B had shifted position, dashing at Alacard.

  Vincent clawed at the ground, ripping a clod of dirt from the grass and growling. He looked over at Alacard who was standing now, looking scared and confused, still not transformed.

  “No,” Vincent said with a snarl. “What are you doing?” He barked. “Transform, you idiot!”

  Vincent moved to his feet, an urgency pulling him forward, and he was able to counteract Mr. B as he moved on Alacard, diving into him and making them tumble to the ground together. Mr. B kicked him, and he leapt backward, landing in a crouch between him and Alacard. He turned to the punk, snarling.

  “If you don’t transform now, you’re finished.”

  Mr. B was on his feet and met Vincent, the two of them tussling around. Mr. B changed his movements and punched in an odd way, not like the punch he had taught them, and this is when Vincent realized his mistake, not that he was even a match for the teacher but this really was going to do him in. He was also watching his teacher’s arms, which was a mistake, leaving him wide open, and Mr. B backed off from his feint of a punch, then with a pushing motion knocked Vincent in the shoulder making him tumble backward. Mr. B was unrelenting, delivering a precise and powerful punch – much like the one he had taught them – to Vincent’s face with a sickening crunch that impacted him with full force and he fell back, and out, darkness embracing him.

  The good news was that Alacard had transformed, but Mr. B moved on Alacard, and since Alacard was already dazed, he was not able to keep up with Mr. B’s quick movements. A strike and a hit, and Alacard had been knocked back against the tree again, Mr. B pinning him against it with hand against neck. Alacard looked frightened as the shadow that was their teacher’s werewolf form hovered over him and held him in place.

  He didn’t finish him off, though. He simply pinned him there, a delicious smile as if savoring the moment.

  “I’ve provided too much leniency on you, son,” he growled with hot and moist breath against Alacard’s face. “I see that now. It’s time to finish the job.”

  Alacard’s hands fell to the side, and he transformed back, no strength left in him to maintain it. He looked up at his teacher, a sadness in his eyes for the first time, and a defeat. He pleaded with his teacher.

  “Please don’t, I-I’m sorry.” He turned away, closing his wet eyes tight as he awaited his end. He wished he had more time, wished he could be stronger, wished so many things in that moment.

  “So,” Mr. B said, dropping Alacard to the ground. Alacard curled up and looked like he was going to cry. “You do have some potential after all.” Mr. B transformed back and glared down at Alacard with that same murderous intent, yet after a moment, he softened a bit as a darkness lingered in his eyes.

  Alacard looked up at him, dumbfounded and not sure what to say.

  “This,” Mr. B said, raising a hand and clenching it. “Is what it would be like if you choose the path of the Beast Mind. You’ll kill, devour, lust, and all sorts of things. Never really being satiated, always wanting more and more but finding nothing but pain, misery, and sadness as you bring about blood and bodies in your wake. Nothing but anguish. If this is what you truly want then I won’t stop you. But if you choose that path, son, I will not only be disappointed, I will end you.” He held his eyes on Alacard, dark and intent.

  Alacard tensed his body, curling into a ball, feeling like he didn’t want to say what he was about to say, but screwing it all and thinking about how terrifying the last moment was, how he gave in, surrendered, let a little moment of vulnerableness come through.

  “Fine. Don’t let me down, though, teach. If you do…”

  He hugged himself tighter, hating to admit this, hating to reveal this part of him, this deep need for admiration and love of someone like a father that he never really had.

  “I’ll never forgive you.”

  Mr. B knelt to Alacard, his dark energy dropping as he held serene but serious eyes on Alacard.

  “If you choose to stay and train with me, I promise you, I won’t let you down. But you need to stop messing around, because out there you’ll have no mercy.”

  “Okay, okay, teach,” Alacard said, rubbing the side of his neck. “Way to make your point.”

  Mr. B slapped a hand against Alacard’s shoulder. “You have potential, son. But you’re a firecracker. You’re unpredictable and violent and push others away.”

  “You need to be more of a team player, but most important, you need to believe in yourself because doing what’s best for you is in your best interest.”

  “And I’ll do everything I can to help you in that regard, but you’ve got to stay focused, because if you continue down this path that you’re going down, it's a slippery slope.”

  Alacard felt a warmth move over him, seeing this man care for him, have his back. But now that he knew his teacher was joking around, or at least making a point, he was back to his old self and slapped his teacher’s hand away, even though part of him wanted him to keep it there. Maybe even get a congratulatory hug, but that would be weak to want that.

  “Fine. I understand. I’ll play nice, or better. I’ll be a good little doggy for you, but you keep your promise as well.”

  They met eyes with each other, small smiles crossing their faces as they came to an understanding.

  “I will, son. You have my word.”

  Alacard glanced over at Vincent with a bit of detest and jealousy because the chump, which Vincent still was and would always be to him, had stood up for him, fought for him, was willing to give his life for him.

  “What about him?” he said with a disproving frown.

  “Don’t worry about Vincent,” Mr. B said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll make sure he’s all right.”

  He winked at Alacard. “And I’ll also keep this little conversation between us.”

  Alacard made a little derisive tsk noise, then tried pushing himself to weak feet, still feeling the effects of the crazy showdown that had just happened. He staggered and leaned against the tree, holding his head.

  “Here,” Mr. B said, tossing him another one of those glass vials with the glowing purple liquid in it.

  Alacard snatched it and gave a toothy smile.

  “Oh joy, my favorite thing.”

  He popped the top off the vial and stared at it with disgust.

  “I love this stuff.”

  Then downed it in a voracious manner, feeling its recovering effects boost his own abilities as quickly as it moved down his throat.

  “Yuck,” he said, wiping his mouth of some of the liquid.

  “Don’t be telling anyone about those vials,” Mr. B said with a playful grin.

  “Or I’ll have to kill you.”

  Alacard chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t.”

  “Oh, and don’t go blaming me if you get an upset stomach or headache from it,” Mr. B said.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Alacard said with a chuckle, remembering the last time he drank that crap and how it made his stomach turn.

  Still, he preferred being fully healed at the cost of a stomachache any day.

  “I always blame you.”

  Mr. B smirked and moved to Vincent, and Alacard felt a tinge of envy at how Mr. B looked at Vincent.

  “Hey, uh, teach?” Alacard asked.

  Mr. B was leaning over Vincent, then turned his head to Alacard.

  “Yeah?”

  “I expect you to train me to be the best damn werewolf there is, you got it?” There was liveliness to Alacard, a confident and toothy grin crossing his face.

  Mr. B simply nodded, holding his eyes on the boy for a moment. And with that, Alacard made his leave, giving a little wave as he did.

  .   .   .